


Servers Down

by PhookaUpsidedown



Series: Ambiguously Caring New Gods [3]
Category: American Gods (TV)
Genre: Domestic, Multi, ish
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-18
Updated: 2018-02-18
Packaged: 2019-03-20 23:00:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 844
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13727826
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PhookaUpsidedown/pseuds/PhookaUpsidedown
Summary: Something is wrong with Technical Boy. Nobody but Media and Mr. World are qualified to fix it.





	Servers Down

The Technical Boy was overloading. It was obvious from the moment he stepped into the apartment from his night out clubbing. The look in his eyes wasn’t the usual blown pupils that came with taking whatever was given to him, and really, he looked like he was on the verge of tears. On top of that, he was shaking, and it wasn’t from the cold, since he had seemingly remembered his jacket for once. It was just his luck that both Mr. World and Media were in the first room.  
“F-fuck,” he stuttered, turning back around and nearly out the door before a hand was on his shoulder.  
The Boy turned back with wide eyes to see Mr. World staring him down, looking rather stern. The Boy knew what was coming next, and he tried to back away, shaking his head. “Don’t. Don’t, don’t, don’t, don’t make me go in there, please, I can’t go in there.”  
As the Boy pleaded, his hands came up to grab Mr. World’s wrist, nervous fingers twisting the fabric. The man seemed unmoved, and faced the woman, Ms. Marilyn Monroe, whose head was peeking over the couch. She shrugged, and flowed off of the couch with ease, literally floating over to them. Her glance at the Boy was as sympathetic as it could be, and she gently turned his head so she could look him in the eyes.  
“Media, please. I don’t want to be alone.”  
Blue eyes shifted color, glitched to green for a moment. Something was really wrong with the Boy this time. Even in some of his worst times, Media had never seen anything quite of this magnitude. She wondered what could possibly be happening. Unless…  
“We’ll stay with you. It’s obvious that one of World’s companies has done something if you’re getting like this,” she answered him, pulling the Boy close.  
Though World couldn’t help the rather obvious rolling of his eyes at Media’s comment, he decided that it would be easier on him if they managed to get the Boy calmed down. If the actual internet was acting up this badly, he was losing ad revenue and Media was losing air time. Neither of those things were productive at all.  
“Right. Come on, we’ll be right there with you.”  
World didn’t sound very assuring, but the Boy knew that if the man said something, he meant it, and that was enough to get him to nod and quietly follow Media to the Quiet Room. The Boy hated this room, with it’s concrete walls and no fucking signal. The last time he’d gone in, it had been a punishment, and he had ended up with a gash on his forehead from where he’d been pounding his head on a wall to make up for the absolute silence. But…it wasn’t punishment if they were both in there with him, right?  
Once in what the Boy would absolutely call the cell, he stood nervously in the middle, blue eyes focusing on the door, but clearly not quite seeing it. World guided him to look away as Media shut the thick door, and immediately, the Boy fell against him.  
“Fuck. Fuck, I can’t. There’s…I can’t…”  
World regarded the presence grabbing onto his lapels with no real emotions, more curious as to how immediate the effect of being cut off had been. Still, knowing that it was a situation that required something to be done, the man stiffly wrapped his arms around the Boy’s thin frame. There was some calming effect to it, apparently, because the Boy’s mumbling got quieter, though it could have been because his face was hidden in Mr. World’s shoulder. The man sighed, and shot a glance at Media. Well, at least she was amused.  
It crossed Mr. World’s mind that maybe taking in this powerful young being was a mistake. Something so powerful shouldn’t seem so weak when there were power outages or crossed wires. But, then, hadn’t Media been the same way, once? It was long ago that she had been, since the radio became a popular household item, but she had been as well. World supposed that the Boy was going to be the same sort of investment.  
“Give it an hour. Your signals being down are bad for business, someone will have to fix it quickly.”  
The look the Boy gave him was timid, and the bright blue eyes darted to Media, as if for confirmation. She gave him a nod, elegant as ever, and the Boy seemed to calm down even more.  
“I don’t wanna be in here for an hour,” he muttered, voice terribly soft and broken, like a video skipping.  
“We’re with you,” Media assured, flowing over to her companions and resting a perfectly soft hand on the boy’s back, just above where World’s arms held him in place.  
The Boy nodded, bit his lip, and returned his face to the man’s shoulder, breathing mostly evenly. He would be back to himself in ten minutes. Media and World would enjoy the moment while they could.


End file.
